


Tainted Dreams

by owlmoose



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Kid Fic, Post-Game(s), Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-16
Updated: 2011-05-16
Packaged: 2017-10-19 11:35:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/200404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlmoose/pseuds/owlmoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There are few things that wake a mother faster than her child's scream of terror, and so it was that Lady Elissa Cousland, Queen of Ferelden, awoke suddenly and completely at the first cry."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tainted Dreams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wallwalker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wallwalker/gifts).



> Written for the New Game Plus reversathon. Prompt:
> 
> Postgame Alistair/Female Cousland. Situation: If you romance a non-hardened Alistair as anyone BUT Cousland, and he becomes king, he'll say that he can't continue the romance because he has to have an heir, and both parents having the taint is too much a risk. Apply this statement to Alistair and Lady Cousland, once Alistair is king and the two are married. They produce an heir, but there's something... wrong, somehow. What's going on, and how do they deal with it?

There are few things that wake a mother faster than her child's scream of terror, and so it was that Lady Elissa Cousland, Queen of Ferelden, awoke suddenly and completely at the first cry. Her feet hit the ground before the second, and by the third she was already running down the hall, throwing on her dressing gown as she went. She reached her son's room and flung open the door to find him in bed, alone, tossing and shaking and wailing in fear.

"Bryce!" She knelt by his bedside and shook his shoulder. "Bryce, wake up!"

At the sound of her voice, he stilled, then opened his eyes to look at her. "Mama?" His eyes filled with tears and overflowed. "Mama!"

Elissa gathered him up in her arms and pulled him close "It's all right, my darling," she murmured into his hair, low and soothing. "It was just a bad dream. Mama's here, and everything will be all right."

He snuffled against her neck. "I was scared. So scared. There were monsters everywhere, and everyone was dead, and..." He sat bolt upright, stiffening, the terror returned anew. "Where's Papa?!"

"I'm right here." The voice came from the doorway, and Elissa looked over her shoulder to see her husband Alistair stepping into the room, carrying the sword that he kept stashed under their bed in case of emergency. He closed the door behind him, carefully set the weapon on the floor out of Bryce's sight, and then walked to the side of the bed. "I'm here," he repeated, reaching out to tousle his son's hair. "You're safe now." Bryce nodded and sniffed again, wiping his eyes and nose with the back of his hand. Alistair knelt down beside Elissa, his hand still on Bryce's head, as though giving his blessing. "Now, tell me about your dream."

"It was so scary." Bryce shuddered, cuddling closer to Elissa, and she tightened her arms around him. "I was alone in the palace, and it was dark, and there were monsters everywhere. Except they looked like people, but wrong people. All big and red and black, and they had fangs and claws, and one even had horns. And then they were chasing me through the market, so I tried to find you, but you were gone, and so I ran up the tower to escape. And there was a dragon!"

Elissa started at that, turned to meet Alistair's eyes, and saw the same thought there. Bryce, dreaming of dragons? A simple childhood terror, or...

Alistair cleared his throat and responded first. "A dragon?"

"Yes. On top of the tower. Waiting for me." Bryce shivered. "And he looked right at me, and he roared, and I wanted to run away but I was too scared. I thought he was going to eat me! But then Mama woke me up."

"Just in time," Alistair said. Elissa shot him a look; he flashed her a grin, then rearranged his face into a more appropriately reassuring expression. "It was only a dream, Bryce. Nothing will ever hurt you while you sleep, I promise."

Bryce nodded, but he still looked skeptical. With a flash of inspiration, Elissa let go of him and went to the door. One of the palace guard stood at attention just a few feet away, and she beckoned him over. "Please send for my hound, and be quick about it."

The guardsman bowed. "At once, Your Majesty." He left, and Elissa returned to the bedroom. Alistair had relocated to sit on the end of the bed, and Bryce had crawled into his lap, looking utterly content to lean against his father's broad chest. For his part, Alistair stroked Bryce's hair while looking down at him with naked adoration, and Elissa felt her heart swell at the sight. Alistair was so determined to shower his son with the love and affection that he had never received as a boy himself, and it showed, especially in private moments like these. Behind his back, some of the Landsmeet called it coddling and worried that it would make the heir weak, but that was nonsense. Elissa was certain that Bryce would grow up to be a fine monarch, kindhearted and just, but also firm when it was necessary. Like his father.

Soon enough, there was a soft rap at the door, and Elissa opened it to admit Dog, her trusted Mabari war hound. Dog was showing his age, moving with less enthusiasm and greater care, but he was still a faithful companion, and he came to her eagerly. She petted his grizzled head, then led him to Bryce's bedside. "Would you like me to lend you Dog for the next few nights? Just until you feel safe again. He will sleep by your bed and keep your nightmares far away."

"Oooh." Bryce's eyes went round with excitement. "Could I?" He reached out his hand, and Dog butted his head into it. Bryce stroked Dog, then came out of Alistair's lap to put his arms around Dog's neck. "Thank you."

Elissa pulled the covers around Bryce and fluffed the pillow as he leaned back, his hand still on Dog's muzzle. She bent and kissed his forehead. "Sleep well, darling."

"'Night, Mama," he mumbled, his face already relaxing into sleep. "'Night, Papa."

"Goodnight." Standing up, Alistair slipped his arm around Elissa's waist, and together they stood watch until the boy's breathing was even and his hand slid off Dog.

Elissa leaned down to pat Dog on the shoulder. "Good boy," she whispered. "Stay. I'll come for you in the morning." Dog looked up at her with understanding, then settled down, laying his snout on his paws. Satisfied, Elissa left the room, Alistair just behind, having paused to retrieve the sword.

They returned to their rooms, Alistair's arm about her shoulders now. She nestled into his side, stealing his warmth -- in her haste to go to Bryce, she had neglected to put on slippers, and the flagstone floor of the palace hall was cold against her feet. Neither of them spoke again until they were back in bed, lying side by side.

She did not want to give voice to the thought, but someone had to say it first. "Nightmares. Do you think--"

"No." Alistair's response was swift and certain. "Just a bad dream, nothing more."

"A bad dream about a dragon, and monsters that sound suspiciously like darkspawn?" Elissa turned to face him, propping herself up on her elbow. "Are you certain?"

Alistair shrugged. "Who knows what tales he's been hearing? Children talk, and they have overactive imaginations. Didn't you have fancies about monsters lurking in the shadows when you were his age?" Even in the darkness, she could see the brilliance of his smile. "I remember when I was six. One of the older stable boys convinced me that there were giant carnivorous squid living in the lake. I refused to go swimming for months. Much less bathe. I grew so rank, one day the porter had to just throw me in."

Elissa chuckled at the image. "I suppose you're right. No need to borrow trouble. But I think I'll still talk to the nanny in the morning, make sure she isn't telling too many stories about darkspawn."

"He'll have to know, eventually." Alistair lifted a hand to her face, stroked a tendril of hair that had come loose from her braids.

"I know. But he's so young; I want to shield him as long as we can." She sighed and shifted, letting her cheek rest on his chest as he brought a strong arm around her. "All these dramatics. I doubt I'll be able to get back to sleep."

"Mmm." He brushed the flat of his palm across her temple. "Fortunately for you, I have a surefire cure for insomnia." He came close and kissed her, letting his mouth linger on hers. She laughed again, and closed her eyes as he rolled atop her, enfolded her in his arms, and took the cares of the world away.

-x-

The next morning, after dressing and taking a light breakfast, Elissa went to check on Bryce. Opening the door, she had to stifle a laugh: he was still asleep, but he had rolled off the bed and onto the floor, taking pillow and blankets with him, and curled up against Dog. "You make a rather fierce-looking nursemaid," she said under her breath; at the sound of his mistress's voice, Dog looked up at her with his doggy smile. Normally Bryce would have been up long since, but given his hard night, she thought it best to let him be for now. So instead, she stood in the doorway and watched him sleep.

Bryce Eamon Cousland Theirin -- Alistair had given his son the family name, despite refusing it for himself -- eldest and only living child of the king and queen, presumptive heir to the throne of Ferelden. A great deal of weight to carry, for a boy of only six years. Elissa frowned at the thought. They tried to let him be an ordinary boy in every way possible, but Bryce was an intelligent child, thoughtful and alert, and sometimes she suspected that he understood more than ought. No wonder if his young mind processed stress like that into a nightmare. Closing the door, she resolved to speak to the nanny about fewer scary stories in the nursery; that would be the end of it.

-x-

Elissa did speak to the nanny, and she did promise to keep a closer watch, but their troubles were only beginning. Bryce slept soundly that night, but he woke the palace with his screams on the next; then, following two nights of peace, the nightmares returned every night for a week, after which he refused to sleep in his own bed, not even with Dog at his side. After the third night in a row of crying himself to sleep in Elissa's arms, she left him there, a watchful Dog lying across the foot of the bed, and went to Alistair, who was spending a late night in his study.

He looked up as she entered the room, the dark circles under his eyes thrown into sharp relief by the candlelight. "You look terrible," he pronounced. "As though you haven't slept for a week."

She managed a wan smile. "That's not so far off from the truth." She pressed a brief kiss against his temple, then sank down in the stuffed chair in the corner, head in her hands. "It's the same dreams, every night, always the same. And we can't ignore it any more, Alistair: these are not flights of childhood fancy. These are darkspawn dreams."

"I know." Alistair dragged the heavy wooden chair from his desk across the room to sit at her side. Taking her hands, he wrapping her fingers in his. "We always knew there might be a danger."

"Yes." Elissa bit her lip and looked away. Before marrying, they had wondered whether two people carrying the darkspawn taint would produce a tainted child. It had, at the time, seemed worth the risk. But despite years of trying, Bryce was the only live birth she had managed, two years into their marriage. She had felt the quickening in her womb several times, but only one other had lasted long enough to end as more than a cramp in the night. That child had come three months early; despite that, it was a hard labor, and she had nearly bled to death -- only the timely intervention of the Circle's best healers had saved her. After she had recovered, Alistair forbade her any further attempts. "I have my heir; a spare would be handy, but I need my queen more," he had said, and that was the end of the discussion. So the healers had returned, and brewed her a potion and performed a spell, and now she would bear no more children. It was, they had agreed, the best thing for them both and for the kingdom, not to mention Bryce, whom Elissa was loath to leave motherless just yet. Especially knowing that he would lose both his parents to the Deep Roads, someday.

But Bryce had been so healthy. An easy birth, a happy baby, a well-adjusted child. Until now. The thought that the taint might be manifesting in him, dashing all their hopes, was a bitter pill to swallow. Shaking her head, Elissa tightened her grip on Alistair's hand. "Are these dreams... does it mean another Blight?"

"I have been thinking on that, and I would say no." Alistair leaned back in his chair. "So far, it has always taken decades, sometimes centuries, for the darkspawn to find another archdemon. A new Blight, in only eight years? It would be unprecedented. Besides, if a new archdemon were rising, we would have felt it, and I haven't."

"Nor have I." Elissa frowned. "So what is it, then?"

"Echoes of the last Blight, I suspect. If you listen the description of his dream, it sounds very much like the battle we fought here in Denerim -- the keep and market overrun, the archdemon on the tower. He could be picking it up from the sense memories of the city, or possibly from our memories."

She sighed and closed her eyes, letting her hair fall back against the chair's upholstery. "Even if that's so, what can we do? Certainly things cannot go on as they are. And if it is the taint, he may be in danger."

"Agreed." Alistair ran his thumb over the backs of her fingers. "I would send to Weisshaupt for advice, but even the fastest courier would take months to bring a reply. Best to start with the Warden-Commander and the mages at Amaranthine. Your next rotation is coming up soon, yes?"

"I was to leave in two weeks," Elissa said, frowning. Their duties as Grey Wardens had not ended with Alistair's ascension to the throne, and so they took it in turns to spend one fortnight at the Wardens' arling every six months. "But I can't abandon Bryce. Not like this."

"We will all go." It had the decisive air of a plan; Elissa looked into Alistair's, saw the resolve there, and realized he had been more prepared for this eventuality than she'd guessed. "It's high time Bryce saw more of Ferelden anyway. Bann Teagan can serve as regent -- things are quiet now, no state visits planned for months, and the Landsmeet is over half a year away. There's nothing that can't wait."

"All right." She sighed and stood. "Perhaps a change of scenery will do him good, even if Amaranthine holds no answers."

Alistair came up behind her, hands on her shoulders. "It will be good for all of us, I think. We can meet with Teagan and the head steward in the morning to make the arrangements." He brought his arms down around her neck, and she reached up to twine their fingers together, leaning back against him with a sigh. "In the meantime, you should try to get some rest. I wasn't joking before, you know."

"If only I could." A lump rose in her throat. "I've prepared for battle against darkspawn, ancient golems, Qunari mercenaries, the undead, abominations and Fade demons, vile and terrifying fiends of every description. I've gone into haunted houses, thieves' dens, palaces full of hired thugs, and the Deep Roads. Andraste's blood, I've faced down a damned archdemon! But I never knew what fear truly was, until now."

For a long moment, Alistair said nothing. Then he let out a gentle sigh, thick with pain. "I know, my dear. Believe me. I know." He turned Elissa around and pulled her close, cupping the back of her head with his hand, rocking her as she buried her face in his neck and finally allowed the tears to fall.

-x-

Unable to face Bryce's terrors for another night, Elissa had stayed behind in Alistair's study, finally dozing off in the upholstered chair just before sunrise. When she woke, she splashed water on her face and went to meet her family for breakfast. Bryce and Alistair were both in the small dining nook that they kept for intimate meals, and coffee, juice, and eggs were already waiting on the table.

She watched them for a moment before entering, marveling as always at the resemblance between father and son -- the same honey hair, lively blue eyes, easy smile. Elissa was hard-pressed to find anything of herself or any of the Couslands in Bryce, not even the grandfather for whom she had named him. Alistair claimed to see a great deal of her in Bryce's personality, but she suspected him of humoring her. Still, it was good that no one would ever question Bryce's right to the throne. No one could look at them together and doubt it. Nor could they mistake the family connection after comparing him with the portrait of his other grandfather, the late King Maric, that still hung in a corner of the great hall. She smiled, just in time for Bryce to look up and see her at the door. He sprang to his feet and took her hand.

"Mama!" He beamed up at her and tugged on her hand, no sign of last night's struggle evident on his bright face. "Come eat with us."

"Of course." Elissa let him draw her forward, then took her seat and poured herself some coffee.

Bryce hopped back up on his chair and watched as she served herself an egg and took a slip of the marvelous elixir in her mug. She could feel him vibrating with something, and she paused with a fork halfway to her mouth. "What is it?"

"Nothing." He shook his head. "But, could you eat faster? Papa says he has a surprise for me, but he was waiting for you to eat first."

Elissa brought her hand to her mouth to hide her smile. "I think I know what your father has in mind," she said. "Alistair, why don't you go ahead and tell him?"

"All right." Alistair folded his hands across the table. "Bryce, how would you like to join your mother and me on a trip? We need to go visit the Gray Wardens, and we think it's time for you to come meet them."

Bryce's eyes were as round as a full moon. "Could I? Really? Oh, yes sir! Yes, please!"

"Good. As soon as you're finished, Nan will come to your rooms and help you pack. We leave tomorrow morning." Alistair looked over the table and met Elissa's eyes with half-smile as Bryce fell immediately to clearing his plate. It was such a normal thing for a boy to do, and Elissa leaned back, her stomach unclenching enough to contemplate actually eating.

As soon as he was done, Bryce dropped his fork on the plate with a clatter and jumped up from his seat. "May I be excused?"

"You may," Elissa replied. "I'll see you at lunch."

"Thank you, ma'am!" Before the words were even completely out his mouth, he had disappeared, bounding down the hall toward his room.

"Tomorrow?" Her smile faded. "Can we be ready to leave so soon?"

Alistair nodded. "I sent a fast courier to Amaranthine with the sunrise, and I've already summoned Teagan; we will meet privately first, and then with the rest of the council. Will you join me, or do you have other business to attend to?"

Elissa took one last bite, then pushed her plate away. "Probably best if we split our efforts. I'll talk to the steward about provisions, then check in with the armory to make sure our weapons and armor are prepped."

"Wonderful." Alistair made a face reminiscent of Bryce being forced to eat some hated vegetable. "You take the practicalities, and I get stuck with all the politics. How is that a fair trade?"

"The price of being king, my love." She reached a hand across the table.

He took it with a warm squeeze, then shook his head with a heavy sigh, even as he smiled. " _Now_ you tell me."

-x-

The next morning, the small party gathered in the main hall of the palace: Alistair, Elissa, Bryce, and Dog, with Bann Teagan and Melisa, Revered Mother of the Palace Chantry, to see them off, along with a selection of servants.

"Thank you for coming, Mother." Elissa bent her knee to the older woman. "I would ask your blessings on us, and on this journey."

"Of course, Your Majesty." Mother Melisa laid one hand on Elissa's head and the other on Bryce's. "May the Maker smile on you and smooth your path."

"I would rather you had accepted my proposal for another half-dozen men to serve as guard," Teagan grumbled behind her. "That would smooth your path, all right."

Elissa rose and turned to face him. "I appreciate your concern. But we travel as Grey Wardens today. The pomp and fuss of an honor guard would be inappropriate."

"We can take care of ourselves, you know." Alistair raised an eyebrow at Teagan. "Or had you forgotten?"

Teagan swept into a deep bow. "Never, Your Majesty. No one knows how many debts you and your lady wife are owed better than I. But still, given the circumstances..." He was the only person Alistair had told of their journey's true purpose, and he inclined his head toward Bryce, who chatted merrily away at the Revered Mother, oblivious to the conversation happening behind him. "I only wonder at the wisdom of taking such a young heir out of the safety of the palace. Especially when he is this... fragile."

"And if it were your son?" Alistair's gaze never wavered from Teagan's face, but Elissa saw his lips narrow. "What would you do?"

They stared at each other for a long moment, and then Teagan looked away. "Whatever I had to," he said softly. He reached out his arms, and Alistair clasped them at the elbows. "Good luck, and stay safe. All of you," he added, shifting his gaze to include Elissa in his benediction. She nodded to him, and then together they walked out of the hall and toward the palace stables, where their mounts were ready and waiting.

Traveling alone, it typically took Elissa five days to reach Amaranthine; two adults, one child, and one dog, even on horseback, stretched the trip into just past a week. And yet, despite her urgency, Elissa found that she was enjoying herself. Bryce saw everything with new eyes: the roads, the trees, the houses, the animals. Every bird and butterfly that twittered by was a revelation, every new plant an occasion for delight. And, mercifully, her hopes for a change in scenery had been realized: Bryce slept easily the first night, and was awakened by his nightmares only once throughout the entire journey. Elissa was almost disappointed when, on the eighth day, the arling rose on a hill in the distance and the three of them rode inside, Dog bounding at the heels of her mare.

The current Warden-Commander was an Antivan woman named Ashaska. A refugee from the Crows, she had been directed to the Wardens by their old companion Zevren almost five years ago. Elissa had helped train her and had been present at her Joining; since then, she had risen swiftly in the ranks and grown into a fine commander -- intelligent, sure, and ruthlessly practical. She came out to meet them with her head high and her hand out. Elissa dismounted and, after lifting Bryce down from the horse, took the offered greeting with a bow. "Commander," she said.

"Good afternoon Elissa, Alistair." Ashaska bent down to come eye-level with Bryce. "And you must be Bryce. It is a great pleasure to meet you."

"Thank you." Bryce executed a solemn bow, copying his mother almost exactly.

"Make yourself at home." Ashaska rose. "I've cleared some of the fellows out to give the three of you a private room. Someone will be along soon to show you where it is. Alistair, may I borrow you for a moment?"

"Of course." Alistair followed her across the courtyard, his steps brisk; as always, Elissa marveled at how easily he transitioned from being in charge of a nation to taking orders from his commanding officer.

"Psst. Mama!" A tug on her hand, and Elissa looked down at Bryce, whose brow was furrowed in confusion. "Why doesn't she call Papa 'Your Majesty'?"

"Because we are with the Grey Wardens now," Elissa replied with a smile. "Your father and I are not King and Queen of Ferelden, here. We are nothing more nor less than the Grey Wardens Alistair and Elissa. And that is a position worthy of the greatest respect. Never forget that. But we do not hold ourselves any higher than our comrades-in-arms. We answer to the Warden-Commander just like any of the others. You will see."

"Oh." Bryce nodded, but he did not let go of her hand. "Okay."

"Now, why don't you go with Dog to find our quarters and get settled? Your father and I need to speak with Commander Ashaska for a little while. And then, afterward, we'll take you on a tour of the keep. Would you like that?"

Bryce brightened -- a tour of an old castle, he understood. "Yes, ma'am!"

Another young Warden, an elf Elissa did not know, appeared at her elbow. "I'll take care of him. Come with me, Your Highness." Bryce followed, Dog right behind; as he disappeared from sight, Elissa turned around and looked over the courtyard of the arling, taking a deep breath of the fresh air, observing the Wardens and those who served them at their work -- drilling in the practice yard, tending to dogs and horses, carrying in food and water: all the tasks, large and small, required to keep such a large estate running.

This was a good place, and in another life, it would have been hers. When this keep was first established, it had been made plan to her that the position of Warden-Commander was hers for the taking, and in another life, she would have accepted it. In a life with no Alistair.

But in this life, her place was at Alistair's side, aiding the throne of Ferelden. Looking across the training ground, she caught his eye; he did not smile, but his expression warmed, and on the whole she knew herself to be content.

Ashaska looked up then and waved her over, her expression more sober than before. "You wish to talk, I presume. In my office would be best. Follow me."

Once inside, they sat down in the chairs that Ashaska indicated, and she settled down on her side of the desk, her smile well and truly faded now, replaced by a solemn stare. "I received your message, of course. And I might as well be blunt: it did not take much time in the archives to confirm the worst. Your son has indeed been affected by the taint."

They were the words they had both expected to hear, and yet the speaking of them still fell on Elissa like a blow, like a roof caving in on her head. She tried to breathe and could not; her lungs would not cooperate. Blindly, she reached out, grasping for anything solid, and she found Alistair's hand. He snatched her fingers into his and squeezed with all his strength. Pain and surprise forced her to gasp, which then allowed her to take a few deep breaths. Her head already clearing, she turned to look at Alistair; he stared resolutely forward, blank and calm. "The King's Face", they called it, the expression he used to mask his thoughts and feelings at need. Once it had been a jest between them -- he would practice in the mirror, ask her jokingly for critique -- but by now he wore it so naturally that even Elissa didn't always notice the difference. Only the grinding of her finger bones beneath his grip gave away the true tenor of his emotions. "So then," he said, in a voice flat as death, "what is to be done?"

Ashaska rested her elbows on the desk, tenting her fingers. "In a thousand years, we have discovered only one cure for the taint. Even that is not a 'cure', per se. But it will calm his nightmares and keep him safe and healthy for many years to come, if it works. I speak, of course, of the Joining."

"What?!" Elissa pulled free of Alistair's grasp and leapt out of her seat. "You can't... that's preposterous! He's just a child!"

"A child who is going to die in agony or descend into madness if he is not Joined." Ashaska shook her head. "I wish there were another way. But there is not. If you wish to have any hope of saving him, it must be done."

Alistair stood, came to her, his hands out, falling on her upper arms. "Elissa..."

She twisted away from him and brought her palms up over her ears, in a vain hope of blotting it all out. "No. No. No! I can't. I won't. No!" She fell to her knees, shaking her head, then doubled over as though the wind had been knocked out of her. The wind _had_ been knocked out of her -- once again, she was robbed of breath; she opened and closed her mouth, but no air came. She would die -- she and Bryce both-- but at least they would be together... Somewhere, a great distance away, she heard voices, footsteps, the soft closing of a door. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. She was going to lose Bryce -- to death, or to the darkspawn, it hardly seemed relevant which. The edges were already turning black-- there could be no light in the world, ever again--

"Elissa." Her name rose out of the darkness, and a firm hand on her back was tugging her away from the abyss. "Elissa, my love."

She turned and she clung to him, let him enfold her in strong arms. "I can't," she said again, through the choking in her throat. "I can't!"

"We must." Alistair cupped her chin in his hand, tipped it up so she could look at him. The King's Face was gone; instead, she saw an echo of the young man who had worn his heart on his sleeve and every thought in his eyes, the man she had first fallen in love with, and he reflected back all the fear and pain that had taken up residence in her soul. His eyes glittered, and his hand shook. "It is a dreadful thing to do to a child. I know this. Ashaska knows it, too. We've all been through it, after all, and it's certainly not an experience I'd choose to relive." He shook his head and closed his eyes. "But it is as Ashaska says. If there was another way, we would take it."

Elissa swallowed. "But it will kill him!" She could see them all, so clearly, the faces of the recruits who had tested their will in the Joining, and failed.

"It might." Alistair lowered his eyes. "But he has a chance to survive, as well. Without the Joining, there is no chance. And I will not lose him to the taint. I would cut his throat first. It would be more merciful for us both."

A wave of exhaustion came over her, and she slumped against him. "To condemn him this way-- to cut his life so short--"

"I know." He pressed his lips into the crown of her head. "It is monstrously unfair, in a way that makes my heart ache. But it cannot be helped. He dies in thirty years, or he dies now, or he becomes a ghoul and might as well be dead. No way is right, but one way is less wrong than the others."

He was right; she knew he was right, but she could not force herself to speak the words. Instead, she leaned back and cast him a sardonic look. "Remember when I was the one forcing you to be hard-heartedly practical?"

Alistair kissed her brow and stroked her hair. "You've taught me well, my dear."

The last remnants of fear and resistance slipped away and left her boneless in Alistair's arms. "This time, you will need to be the strong one," she murmured. "Take the lead, and I will follow. Tell me what I must do."

"We'll need some darkspawn blood." Alistair shook his head with a humorless laugh. "I never thought I'd say this, but I hope there's an outbreak somewhere along the northern sea. A round trip to Orzammar would take weeks."

"Perhaps Ashaska will know of an easier way." Elissa found that she had the strength to stand, and Alistair rose to his feet as well. "Please call her back. I owe her an apology, as well. But there is one other matter to discuss first." She hated what she was about to say, but knew she needed to say it. "What happens if Bryce does not survive?"

Alistair looked away -- he knew of what she spoke. "Then the crown passes to your line, and Fergus's sons will rule Ferelden."

The answer came so easily, as though he had thought it through months before, but still Elissa shook her head. "You might still--"

"No." His tone was flat, and final. "You are not risking yourself, and you know my feelings on the fine tradition of royal bastards. The decision is mine, and it is made. Do not bring it up again."

Privately, Elissa thought the Landsmeet might have other ideas, but this was not the time to press the issue. "As you say, love."

He opened the door and walked through it, and Elissa sank back down into her chair. When he returned with Ashaska and a mage, she started to rise, but Ashaska waved her back down.

"I know what you are going to say, and there is no need." She placed a hand on the back of the chair. "You are not the Warden in the matter, nor even the queen. You are a grieving mother, terrified for her son's life. I may not have children of my own, but I do understand this much."

"Thank you." Elissa leaned forward as Ashaska returned to her seat, the mage standing behind her. "I-- have come to accept that this is the only way to save Bryce. But can it even be done? Has a child ever been successfully joined?"

The mage stepped forward with a small bow. "Your Maj-- I mean, Warden. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Elwin, a mage of the Circle, and I fought with your forces at Denerim eight years ago. It is an honor to speak with you both. I have been recently assigned here to support the Grey Wardens, and researching your son's condition was my first task. After scouring the small archive here for some precedent, I can provide you with the following information." He pulled out the scroll he had been carrying beneath his arm and unrolled it on the desk. "First, some background. You may know this already, but it is rare for a female Grey Warden to bear a living child, and when the father is also a Warden, the odds are decreased a hundredfold. Most of the time, the taint is too strong, and the child dies shortly after quickening."

Elissa met Alistair's eyes; he lowered his gaze. "Yes," she said to Elwin. "That was our experience as well."

"Just so." Elwin nodded. "During the pregnancy itself is the most dangerous time for the offspring of two Grey Wardens. If the child survives, he does not, strictly speaking, suffer from the taint; we believe it could more appropriately be described as an incomplete Joining, making the nightmares a sort of variation on the Call. Completing the Joining should bring him to the same state as any newly-made Warden, stilling his bad dreams and prolonging his life." He looked up from the book and straight at Elissa. "I do not wish to give you false hope. Of the handful of similar cases we were able to find in the archives, fewer than half the subjects survived. But I am speaking of two children out of five, hardly enough to draw any meaningful generalizations. I would judge your son's odds of survival to be similar to those of any potential recruit or, if less, only slightly."

"All right." Elissa laid her hands flat on the desk. "It must be done, and it must be soon."

"Not just soon." Ashaska leaned forward and lowered her voice. "Tonight."

"Tonight!" Alistair sat bolt upright, and his chair rattled. "There are darkspawn so close?"

Ashaska shook her head. "No, not at all. But a team came back from Orzammar just two days ago, after cleaning up an underground incursion, and I have recently made it a practice for anyone on a routine patrol to collect at least three vials of blood. It is useful to have the stuff to hand: for research, for emergencies. Like this one."

"So soon," Elissa murmured. "Will he be ready?"

"Given that Bryce is not suited to hunt a darkspawn for himself, there are no other preparations to be made." Ashaska shrugged. "So much of the Joining ritual is pure theatre, meant to weed out the weak and connect the Warden to the brotherhood; surely you have learned this by now. Bryce is not, at this time, committing to the Grey Wardens, and so we can dispense with the window dressing. And the longer we wait, the worse his dreams will become." She cast a hard stare at Alistair, then Elissa, her pale green eyes probing at Elissa's very soul. "After supper, I will prepare the chalice, and then at tonight's bonfire, Bryce will drink. Agreed?"

Elissa nodded. "Agreed."

-x-

"Wipe your feet, please."

Bryce dutifully scraped the soles of his leather boots against the metal that marked the edge of the threshold. "I'm sorry, Mama. I didn't mean to get so close to the pigs."

"It's all right." Elissa let her hand rest on his shoulder. "But best not to track mud all over the carpet."

"I know." Bryce darted out from underneath her hand and peered through the doorway on his left. "So that's the kitchen, we've been there. Why is the wall a different color here?"

Elissa put her hands behind her back. "A painting hung there, a portrait of a man who once lived here," she said, quietly, remembering a trip she had made to this estate many years ago, a sullen girl who would have preferred to be playing at swords with Fergus, not dressed in stiff skirts and taking tea with her father's friend. His good, dear friend. She tried not to think about that history too much, in this place. "It hung there for many years, so the paint faded around it. That's what left the mark."

"Oh." Bryce bounded away, clearly not interested in this piece of ancient history, and moved to the next door, on the other side of the corridor. "And this?"

"A Chantry." Elissa pulled him back from the entrance. "Just a small one, kept for the Grey Wardens who live here."

Bryce tried to peak around the crack of the open door. "If it's a Chantry, why aren't there any priests? Or Templars?"

"It's not really active," Elissa explained. "Mostly, people come here to pray before battle, or after. It's a place for quiet contemplation. Not much to see, I fear..." Her voice trailed as she got a glimpse of the back of the room. It was not empty, as she had expected, but occupied by one man: Alistair.

He had taken a place by a small altar, bent down on one knee, hands clasped together and pressed against his forehead. His lips moved, but Elissa could not make out the words; his shoulders trembled, and his eyes squeezed shut.

She longed to go to him, but on the whole, she thought he would not thank her for interrupting. Instead, she closed the door before Bryce could see, then sent a fervent prayer of her own in the Maker's direction.

-x-

Nightfall came quickly: too quickly, for Elissa's tastes. A plate of food was put in front of her, but she could do little more than pick at it. Across the table, she noticed Alistair in much the same state; meanwhile, Bryce ate heartily of his venison stew along with several slices of bread. When he had cleared his plate, he looked up at Alistair, then over at Elissa, his brow furrowing. "Didn't you like it?" he asked. "Should we ask the cook to make something else?"

Despite the fear that gnawed at her gullet, Elissa smiled fondly at her son, this child of privilege. "It doesn't work that way here, I'm afraid. The Grey Wardens take it in turns to do the cooking, and whoever is on duty makes the same food for everyone. I like the stew well enough." She forced down a bite or two more, then raised an eyebrow at Alistair. He responded with a tiny nod, downed the rest of his wine, and laid a hand on Bryce's shoulder.

It was time.

Alistair cleared his throat; only Elissa heard the catch in his voice. "Bryce, I need you to go to our room and wait there."

Bryce's eyebrows went up, and his eyes widened. "Am I in trouble? But I didn't do anything! Well, maybe one thing." A flash of guilty conscience passed across his face, and Elissa wondered what small infraction he might have committed.

She shook her head, and hoped it was reassuring. "It's nothing you did, but it is important. Please do as your father asks. We'll be along shortly."

"Yes ma'am. Dog, come!" Bryce snapped his fingers as he stood, and Dog followed, rising from the nest he had made under the table.

Elissa watched them go, then looked at Alistair, brows raised. "Why are we stalling?"

"We need to check in with Ashaska, make sure the chalice is prepared. She should be waiting." Together, they left the table and walked through the room, cognizant of the eyes that followed them, the heads that turned at their passage. Exiting the dining hall into a dark, quiet hallway, Alistair took three paces, then stopped. "I." His hands clenched into tight fists. "Maker forgive me. But I don't know if I can go through with this."

"If we had a choice..."

"To hell with this life and its lack of choices!" He spun around, and thunder rolled in his eyes. "No choice but to hide at Redcliffe, train as a Templar, join the Wardens, become king. Only one choice I've made has ever meant a damn to me, and look at the suffering it's bringing to you, to my son." He shook his head, fiercely, like a Mabari with a rabbit in its jaws. "How-- how can we do this?"

Elissa stepped close to him and laid a hand on his rough, warm cheek. "The same way we've faced every other hard thing: together. We prepare for battle as best we can, then cut our way through every enemy between us and our goal, one stroke at a time."

He closed his eyes, a look of sudden weariness passing across his face. "Going into battle is so much easier when it's an enemy you can fight with a sword. How can we keep him safe from monsters when the monster is a part of him? A part of all three of us?"

"A thought that has been much on my mind, as well." She leaned in and kissed him, and he tightened his hands against her waist. "But what more is to be done? We gain nothing by waiting. Best to get it over with; at least then we no longer have to dread the worst."

Alistair nodded, favoring her with a rueful smile. "So, now who's being the practical one?"

Elissa half-smiled in return. "We seem to be taking it in turns. Are you ready?"

"Ready." He let her go and led her down the hallway. At the entrance to Ashaska's study, he paused, hand on the knob. "King's Face, on," he muttered to himself, and then he pushed open the door.

-x-

"Thank you for waiting so patiently." Elissa sat next to Bryce, who was perched on the edge of the bed, hands folded in his lap, face solemn. "I suppose you're wondering what all this is about."

Bryce nodded. "Is it because of my nightmares?"

"Yes." Alistair knelt down at the foot of the bed, bringing himself to just below Bryce's eye level. "The truth is that your nightmares are a symptom of a sickness."

"Sickness?" Bryce's brows furrowed, and he looked at his stomach. "But I don't feel sick."

"No, it's not that kind of sickness. You were born with it, but for many years it lay dormant. Now it is manifesting, and we brought you here because we hoped the Wardens would have a cure."

"Why the Wardens?" Bryce looked from Alistair to Elissa and back. "Why not the healers? Or the mages? If I'm sick because of dreams, does that mean I'm going to become an abomination?" His eyebrows lifted alarmingly high. "I don't want to become an abomination!"

"No, no." Elissa put an arm around his shoulder and drew him into her side, while wondering who had been telling him stories about abominations. "These are not dreams of the Fade. Your dreams are darkspawn dreams."

"Darkspawn. The monsters in my dreams. Those are darkspawn?" Bryce's eyes were still wide; apparently, this prospect was no less frightening than abominations.

Elissa nodded at him. "Yes. You are dreaming of darkspawn, just as the Grey Wardens do. And that's why we brought you to the Wardens. Your sickness is connected to the magic that we use to fight darkspawn. And we are going to use that magic to help you."

"Oh." Bryce frowned. "How?"

She turned to Alistair. They had just spent many minutes wrangling with Ashaska and each other, trying to decide how much to tell him. Finally, they had decided on as much of the truth that any Warden was told; as first-made Warden among the three of them, it fell to Alistair to do the telling, and he had also insisted on leading the ritual himself. She saw his shoulders rise as he breathed in, deeply. "It is called the Joining. Every Grey Warden went through this ritual, including your mother and myself. First, you'll drink a cup of specially-treated darkspawn blood--"

"Ick!" Bryce winced, his eyes pulling into a squint. "I have to drink _blood_?"

"Not very much. And that part is over with quickly," Alistair said; Elissa thought she saw the shadow of a smile on his face. "The hard part comes next. You will have another dream, much like your nightmares, perhaps even worse. But when it is over, you should wake, and then you will be Joined, and immune to the sickness."

"Should wake." Bryce fell silent for a long moment; his next question was posed to Elissa. "Does that mean that I might die?"

Elissa opened her mouth, then closed it, not trusting herself to speak. She turned pleading eyes to Alistair, who took Bryce's hands. "Yes. I'm sorry. But you deserve to know the truth. Not everyone survives the Joining."

Bryce's responding nod was solemn. "What happens if I don't do it?"

"Your sickness will grow worse." Alistair tightened his grip and leaned forward. "And that could be fatal as well. It is your choice, Bryce. We will not force you to undergo the Joining if you don't wish to. But I hope you are willing to try."

The silence lasted longer this time, Bryce's eyes cast downward, into his lap. But when he looked up, his face was calm: no trace of fear or even concern. "I want to be Joined," he said. "I want to be a Grey Warden, like you."

Elissa's free hand flew to her mouth; Alistair closed his eyes for a long moment, then hugged his son fiercely to him. "I was there when your mother was Joined, and I assisted in her ritual, just as I will assist in yours. She was very brave."

"I will be brave, too, Papa." Bryce extricated himself from Alistair's embrace. "I will. I promise."

"And so do I." Alistair rumpled his hair. "I will see you very soon, Bryce."

As soon as he was gone, Elissa found her voice. "Come with me," she said, reaching for Bryce's hand; he took it without complaint. "We will meet your father at the campfire outside."

"Okay." Bryce walked with her through the hallways, Dog at their heels; as they approached the door to the courtyard, he squeezed her hand and looked up. "Mama?"

Elissa looked back down at him. "Yes, my darling?"

"Papa said you were brave at your Joining. But were you afraid?"

She knelt down beside him, taking his shoulders in her hands. "Of course I was," she said. "But I also knew that Ferelden needed me to become a Grey Warden. So I did what I had to do. That's what being brave means."

Bryce chewed on his lower lip, thoughtful. Then he nodded. "I understand. I think. Okay. Can we go now?"

"Yes." Elissa stood up, reached for his hand again, then thought better of it and stood aside, pushing the door open for him. He strode through, small head held high, and she followed.

The bonfire burned bright in the center of the courtyard. Only three people awaited them there: Ashaska and Elwin, with Alistair standing just in front of them, gripping the large silver Joining chalice in the palm of his hand. Bryce walked to him, staring straight up into his father's face. Alistair looked back. "Are you ready?"

Bryce nodded, quickly. "Ready."

Alistair lifted the chalice and lifted his gaze upwards; the flickering firelight cast a warm glow on the noble faces of father and son alike, setting them in relief against the blue-black sky, and Elissa's breath caught at their shared strength and beauty. The words of the ceremony began, but she barely heard them; she had eyes only for Bryce and Alistair, ears only for the crackling of the bonfire. The chalice was so large that Bryce could barely hold it in both hands, and Alistair had to steady it for him. But somehow he managed to tip his head back and drink -- and then the vessel slipped free, falling to the ground, splashing his feet with the ichor, rich and black as death. He staggered backwards, eyes rolling up into the back of his head, hands clenching his throat, his small body wracked with tremors. Elissa could not move, could not look away but to steal a quick glance at Alistair; he wore the King's Face, but he moved to her side, linking his fingers with hers.

It was the longest ten minutes of her life, watching her son fight with his dreams, with the taint, with the archdemon's blood as it crept into his veins. She thought, as she always did during a Joining, of Daveth, the bold thief who had failed the ritual at Ostegar, of the awful moment when he'd fallen over dead at her feet, and she had wondered if she was seeing her own imminent fate. Would Bryce follow Daveth into the void, as had so many others? It seemed unthinkable; it seemed inevitable.

And then Bryce collapsed into a limp pile. His eyes closed, and he shuddered one more time, but it was the shudder of a bone-deep breath. He was breathing. He was alive.

Her paralysis broken, Elissa lurched forward, taking Bryce into her arms, lifting him up from the ground to cradle his head in her lap, brushing the tendrils of hair from his face. "Bryce? Bryce? Can you hear me?"

His eyelids fluttered, then opened, and they were blue once again, and clear, yet somehow much older and wiser than any child's eyes should be, and the tears that Elissa forced back were not entirely from relief. "Mother?" He blinked, then focused on her face. "Am I a Grey Warden now?"

"Yes." She dropped her forehead to his, touching their noses together, breathing him in. "Yes, you are."

Alistair was with them, then, gathering them both in an embrace, and they sat in reverent silence, a family of Wardens joined together in the firelight.

-x-

They made love afterwards, seeking out a secluded chamber where they could come together and release all the emotions of the past few weeks. No words were spoken; they said all that was needful in their private, shared language of fingertips and mouths and skin on skin. Once spent, they collapsed together in a heap of exhaustion, Elissa nestling against Alistair's chest, his hand buried in her hair, and before she knew it, she had drifted away.

She woke an hour or so later, limbs still intertwined with his; the last thing she wanted to do was move, but her maternal obligations tugged at her, and so she pressed her lips to his collarbone and murmured his name.

"Hmm?" Alistair lifted his head and looked down at her, sweeping his hand from the crown of her head, down her back, and letting it settle on her hip. "After all that, I thought you'd sleep for a week, at least."

She laughed, softly. "Nice as that sounds, shouldn't we check on him?"

"Oh, probably." He tightened his hand to pull her tighter. "Although he may want to be alone right now. I know I did, after my Joining."

"True," Elissa acknowledged, remembering the overwhelming awe of her own experience. "Still, I don't want to leave him for too long." They had seen him safe to their room, before, and Ashaska had promised to leave a sympathetic guard in case he woke before their return -- they had not, of course, spoken of their intentions, but Ashaska had given them a knowing look as they'd slipped into the keep together.

Another kiss, and then they separated, dressed, and made their way to their son, hands loosely joined as they walked down the hall. With a nod of dismissal to the guard, Elissa opened the door with care. Bryce was there, dozing on the sleeping pallet that someone had found and laid at the foot of the bed, while Dog kept his watch on the other side of the room. Elissa tiptoed inside, but the bed creaked as soon as she sat on it, and Bryce rolled over, then opened his eyes.

She caught his eye. "I'm sorry. We didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay." Bryce sat up with a bounce that suggested too great an excitement for deep sleep. "When can I start training with the Grey Wardens?"

Elissa looked up at Alistair, who was clearly struggling not to laugh. No help, there. Probably they should have discussed this possibility, but she had been so focused on Bryce's survival that dealing with anything beyond that had never really occurred to her. "Come here," she said, and Bryce stood up, clambering up on the bed and to her side. "There are some things you need to know. Things we had hoped to defer telling you until you were older, but now that you are a Grey Warden, you are ready to hear them. And soon we'll have a long talk about all of that, as well discussing how your training will proceed. But for now, you should get some rest."

"I'm not tired," he said, leaning his head against her shoulder. "I'm hungry. May I please have a snack?"

"Absolutely." Elissa mussed his hair; he scowled and straightened it again as he jumped down from the bed. "Let's go see about raiding the larder, shall we?"

-x-

The three of them stayed up late into the night, eating leftover meat and cake, drinking wine -- well-watered, in Bryce's case -- and chatting. Alistair entertained Bryce with stories of his early days in the Grey Wardens, while Elissa contributed some of the lighter anecdotes from their journeys through Ferelden. Bryce listened with rapt attention, demanding more after each tale, but finally wine and excitement caught up with him to leave him drooping on the bench. As soon as his eyes drifted shut, Alistair scooped him up and carried him back to their sleeping chamber. Elissa followed, and wondered how much longer their son, the Grey Warden, would suffer such paternal treatment.

They all slept in the next morning, a sleep free of nightmares, waking just before noon to the sound of wind rattling the windows. Outside, it was a misty day, with leaden skies and a stiff, chill breeze cutting through the courtyard. But somehow refreshing, Elissa thought as she led her husband and her son through the courtyard to where Alistair's horse was saddled and waiting. A rainstorm, to wash away all her cares and fears, to let her start anew. She busied herself with securing the saddlebags while Alistair swung Bryce up onto the front of the saddle.

"Leaving already?" Ashaska appeared at Elissa's shoulder, but her question was directed at Alistair.

"Yes." Alistair laid his hand on the horse's neck. "Unscheduled trips make Denerim nervous, so I promised to return as soon as possible. But we'll be back soon, I'm sure."

"It's not fair," Bryce muttered from his perch. "Why does Mother get to stay?"

Elissa patted his foot. "Because it's time for my regular rotation here. So it's my duty as a Grey Warden to stay. But your father's rotation isn't for several months yet."

"Hmph." He crossed his arms and glared down at her. "Just because Father has to go back doesn't mean I need to. I want to stay here with you, and learn to be a Grey Warden!"

"Bryce." Ashaska took the horse's reins in her hand and turned the beast just enough that Bryce was forced to face her. "As Warden-Commander of all the Grey Wardens in Ferelden, I have an order for you, and I expect you to carry it out." He nodded, eyes lighting up. "I hereby order you to report to Elissa and Alistair. They will train you in the ways of battle, and the customs and practices of the Grey Wardens. Then, in a few years, when they decide you are ready, you will return to Amaranthine and take your place here: first in turns with your parents, and later, when you are old enough, on your own. Do you understand?"

His face fell, but only a little, as he nodded again. "Yes ma'am."

"Good. Now, let me tell you a little bit more about how things work around here..." With a quirk of the eyebrow to Elissa, Ashaska pulled the horse a little closer toward her, away from Elissa and Alistair, giving them a moment alone. Elissa took advantage and stepped close to him, placing her hands flat on his chest.

"Sorry to stick you with this next part," she said, soft enough for no one else to hear. "Telling him hard truths about darkspawn, and his future as a Warden, and the Call -- you shouldn't have to do all that alone."

"It's all right." Alistair wrapped his arms about her waist. "It only makes sense for you to stay for your rotation, and I should not delay my return another hour -- I'm sure Teagan is frantic with worry. Bryce and I will just have a long talk on the road. Maybe it'll be easier that way."

"Maybe." Elissa turned enough to look at Bryce, sitting straight up on the horse, talking with Ashaska as though she were his equal. "I always knew he would have to grow up fast. But I never imagined it would be this fast. I miss my little boy already."

"Mm." Alistair glanced over his shoulder, and his smile was bittersweet. "I can't disagree. But I look forward to getting to know the young man, too. He'll be fine, you know. That boy has a core of fire and steel. Just like his mother." Lifting a hand to the back of her neck, he kissed her thoroughly, then let her go. "See you in a few weeks."

"Right." She raised a hand to Bryce, who waved back as Alistair mounted the horse and took the reins from Ashaska. Dog nudged up under her other hand, and she stroked his muzzle with her fingertips. "Have a safe trip," she called out.

"Goodbye, Mother." They turned to go, and Elissa watched until they were out of sight, and then longer, Dog leaning against her leg, until the chill drove her back inside and to her duties.


End file.
